


FAMILY MAN

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/F - Category, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim decides that he wants to have a baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FAMILY MAN

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by Francesca's wonderfully well-written "Yellow Roses". It was so good and it got me thinking about the boys getting older and wanting a family. This is the way I see Jim approaching the issue - all wrong. I was up until 12:30 in the morning working on the title and I'm still not happy with it, but I'll live.

## FAMILY MAN

by ROXANN

Author's webpage: <http://www.angelfire.com/ga4/garett/senslash.htm>

Author's disclaimer: They're mine, but I'll share them with you if you're nice.

* * *

 **FAMILY MAN**  
BY Roxanne 

The feeling came upon Jim Ellison so rapidly that he was totally unprepared to deal with its impact. He had no time to dispatch it to the usual place his other harebrained ideas ended up. His plans to become a professional dance instructor ... banished to the back of the brain. The idea about decorating the loft in a nautical theme ... abandoned without a second thought. That project to convert the storeroom in the basement into a darkroom ... forsaken for a place to store Christmas decorations. So instead of repressing this newest bit of foolishness, Jim let the idea grow and as it began to flower, Jim realized how badly he wanted to see this particular idea through to fruition. 

What Jim was to later refer to in his thoughts as "The Idea" ... always in quotes and always capitalized ... whacked the detective upside the head at his 40th birthday party. There, amidst the gag gifts and the cake shaped like a gravestone and the spiked punch, came the realization that he too had a biological clock that was ticking away far too quickly. Then when Jim's brother Stephen, his model gorgeous wife Stacy and their brand new baby boy made their appearance, Jim was hooked. "The Idea" had a form. He knew what he wanted. Jim Ellison wanted a baby ... not just any baby, of course ... he wanted his own baby. 

Holding the tiny child in his arms was the best feeling Jim had ever experienced. He stroked the delicate fingers and inhaled the soft baby scent deeply. And when little Billy smiled at the cooing detective, Jim fell hard. If Alex Barnes had sparked a territorial instinct in the Sentinel, this little bundle wrapped in pastel flannel blankets and baby powder ignited a bonfire inside him. 

Not wanting to relinquish his hold on his nephew, Jim carried Billy around the restaurant that had been reserved for the occasion. He showed the baby off to Simon and Darryl. Simon thought he saw a resemblance to the detective. Darryl was bored and wanted to leave ... far too cool to be concerned with a tiny baby. Megan tried to wrench the child from his arms for her own bit of cuddling, but Jim refused to let him go. Naomi was finally able to coax Jim into letting her hold Billy, but he stood at her side the whole time, ready in case she might accidentally drop the precious child. 

Blair watched his Sentinel with an expression that turned from amusement to amazement as the evening wore on. He'd seen Jim around a few kids and knew that the detective liked babies okay, but never like this. Watching a 6-foot plus, 200 pound former Army Ranger make silly faces had Blair laughing out loud. But as Jim's focus narrowed more and more on the infant, Blair had to wonder what was going through his partner's mind. 

When Blair finally got a minute alone with Jim and his nephew, he was smitten too. The two men tickled and bounced and mugged for the giggling baby, leaving the rest of their guests to their own devices. And Billy was loving the attention. He yanked on long brown curls while Uncle Jim blew raspberries on his tummy. Uncle Blair played "This Little Piggy" with Billy's teeny little toes while the Sentinel dialed it down and changed one seriously dirty diaper. 

When Stacy started to whine that her feet hurt, Stephen was forced to reclaim his child and swear that Jim and Blair could come and play with the baby that weekend. The party kind of pooped out after that. Jim kept zoning out of conversations and Blair wasn't doing much better. 

If Blair noticed that Jim was acting a bit strange after his birthday party, he didn't mention it. Hell, the man was always quiet and Blair had known for a long time that Jim tuned him out more often than not when he was prattling on and on about some esoteric topic or other. So finding Jim staring out of the balcony window or at the TV when all that was on was Gilligan's Island just didn't track as majorly odd. 

Blair was mildly surprised when Jim asked him to show him how to search for information on the Internet, but the older man learned quickly and seemed truly interested in expanding his fund of knowledge. Blair kind of thought that it was something to do with a midlife crisis when Jim bought his own laptop and had a second phone line installed in his bedroom so that he could surf the net in private. The young detective snickered to himself at the thought of Jim lurking in a kinky sex chatroom ... probably keeping some kind of tally of felonies committed in cyberspace. 

But Jim was too busy doing research to spend time lounging around in the adult chatrooms. Oh, he wasn't a saint. He'd typed in "big breasts" in his favorite search engine and had spent one whole evening ogling genetic mutants and women who must owe their life savings to plastic surgeons. Mostly though, Jim was pursuing "The Idea" and how to make it happen. He studied adoption, in vitro fertilization and artificial insemination. He followed several threads of discussions on surrogate mothering and even scanned a site on black market babies. 

When Jim wasn't at home surfing the net, he was consumed with the active pursuit of the perfect mother for his child. The man had taken cruising to a new level of intensity. He was at every concert, every lecture, every health club he could find, searching for Ms. Right. He volunteered for all the grocery shopping now and even took the comforters to the laudromat because he'd heard they were good places to meet women. The only type of place he avoided was bars. He did not want to worry about his child having a genetic predisposition to substance abuse. 

So each night, after he'd shaved, showered, brushed, flossed and gargled ... after he'd poured himself into his tightest jeans and tighter t-shirt ... after he'd practiced his small talk and interested looks in the bathroom mirror ... he'd pull his list out of his wallet. And there in his neat handwriting was a list of all the characteristics he was looking for in the mother of his child. It was his own special ritual before the hunt. 

The list covered about half a sheet of paper and was constantly being revised. At first, Jim had tried to color code the traits based on importance ... red for the most important ... blue for the lesser ... but now the list was a jumble of adjectives written with anything that came to hand. His perfect woman had to be smart, brave, funny, kind, attractive, witty, compassionate, sensitive, sensible about her diet and politically moderate. She had to have a good sense of humor, a great head of hair, be interested in sports and music and at least open to trying fishing. She had to love children and she had to be willing to give his child up with no guarantee of future contact. 

Jim wasn't ruling out the possibility that he might actually meet someone he wanted to marry, but that wasn't what this was all about and it was better to not confuse the two issues. So instead of looking for someone he enjoyed being with, Jim stuck to his list and continued on his single-minded search for the perfect vessel for his baby. 

He'd made the easy choices first. Megan had a lot of the characteristics he wanted, but was out because she was a co-worker. Cassie wasn't even considered. There's no way he wanted a child that had a sliver of a chance of being that pushy. Lila and Veronica were dead and Laura McCarthy was still in jail. Carolyn was out because she was pregnant herself. Jim groused a bit at how much easier it was for women when he found that out. Shit, Carolyn was now living in San Francisco with a female lover and all she had to do was go to a sperm bank and pick out a likely candidate for a parent while he had to prowl the city looking for his. 

The closest he'd come so far was Blair's friend Margaret. They'd dated a few times after the whole Golden mess, but nothing really clicked and Jim got bored and Margaret got hurt and Blair got pissed off. But Margaret was sweet and smart and while she was really shy, she had the guts to introduce herself to Jim after Blair had refused to help. And she did have a really dry sense of humor that he had loved. 

So when Jim ran into Margaret at a lecture at Rainier on the Arts and Crafts movement in Cascade, he asked her out for coffee at Caf du Monde afterwards. Margaret had asked about Blair and how he liked being a detective and how she didn't believe that he was a fraud. She never mentioned the Sentinel business outright and Jim really liked that. Besides, she had pretty hair and a really sweet smile. 

They had walked back to their cars afterwards and when Jim bent to give her a quick kiss goodbye, Margaret had looked at him with her softly shimmering eyes and he forgot all about being bored with her before and thought about how they'd never even had sex when they had dated. So while he kissed her slowly and thoroughly, he ran through his list and ticked off the positives. 

She was attractive, intelligent, sensitive and funny. He remembered that she liked the same kind of new age music that Blair listened to and that she'd known who was playing the Jags the night he begged off from a date with her to go to the game with Sandburg. They'd never talked about children ... they'd never been that serious about each other ... but he thought she'd had a couple of pictures of kids ... probably nieces or nephews ... on her desk at work. 

So when the kiss ended and Margaret asked Jim if he'd like to get together again, he'd made a date for the next night. He didn't tell Blair this time ... there was no point in pissing him off again if it didn't work out ... and stopped on the way to her apartment to buy her some flowers. Margaret met him at the door wearing a tan linen dress that nearly touched the floor. She looked pretty and wholesome and he wasn't sure how he was going to bring up having a baby for him, but he was in this far, so he figured he might as well continue. 

Margaret had insisted on cooking dinner and her house smelled of chicken and spices and clay and cabbage. Jim gallantly fought the urge to wrinkle his nose in disgust, opting instead for dialing down his sense of smell. With smell turned down, taste wasn't too much of a problem and the meal went by without a hitch. Afterwards, Margaret seated herself close to Jim on her overstuffed couch and watched him over the top of her wineglass. 

Jim made congenial noises about the music on the stereo and Margaret scooted closer. He asked about the lecture the night before and she emphasized her comments by laying her hand on his thigh. Jim told her that she had pretty eyes and Margaret asked him if he wanted a blow job. Conversation pretty much ground to a halt as Margaret slid to the floor and pushed the detective's knees apart. 

Laying his head back in a post-orgasmic haze, Jim marveled at how completely unturned on he had been up until the moment Margaret had offered fellatio. And then his dick had filled so fast he'd gotten lightheaded from the rush of blood south. But while there really wasn't such a thing as a bad blow job, this one was just kind of ... lackluster. Jim had watched his dick disappear through Margaret's lips and had been immediately reminded of one of those blow-up dolls with the obscenely shaped mouth ... always in a perfect O ... ready to swallow up any eager penis thrust into it. 

Mouths weren't meant to be like that. Mouths were meant to have beautiful full lips that smiled and scowled and quivered and wrapped around complex words and men's dicks as easily as they did around a popsicle in hot weather. But once your dick's inside a mouth, nature takes over and unless there happens to be contact with teeth, not much can stop it from taking its course. So Jim came amidst the slurping and licking and sucking and tried not to notice Margaret's grimace as she swallowed. 

When she hopped up and pulled him towards her bedroom, Jim knew he was obliged to follow. Man, if Sandburg had been pissed off about how he had treated her before, how mad would he be if Jim had used Margaret like that and then left without at least trying to satisfy her? Besides, he still had to find out about how she felt about babies. 

Margaret's bedroom looked like it had been decorated by Sears, with a satiny bedspread in dark pink and matching drapes on the windows. There was off-white shag carpeting on the floor and all the furniture was antiqued white with gold trim. A collection of stuffed toys lined one wall and an exercise bike sat in the corner. It only had 4 miles on it and Jim could see the pattern that clothes hangers had made on the dust on the handlebars. 

Pulling Margaret in for a kiss, Jim began to map her slender body with his hands. She couldn't weigh more than 115 pounds dripping wet, he decided, and while there wasn't any fat on her, there wasn't much muscle either. She had nice perky little breasts and her butt was firm and round. He felt a thin scar on her stomach and wondered if she'd had her appendix out. 

As he pondered the meaning of the scar, Margaret set about undressing Jim. She'd made him leave his dick out after the blow job and he'd felt like a pervert walking through the house with that flapping in the breeze. Soon she had his trousers around his ankles and his briefs were puddled on top. Jim pulled his polo shirt over his head, toed off his shoes and kicked the pants aside. 

Margaret was shy about her body and insisted on the lights being off before she would start to undress. Jim climbed into the double bed and watched as she pulled off the dress and shimmied out of her pantyhose. Underneath, she wore one of those all-in-one piece things that had snaps in the crotch like a baby's jumpsuit. Margaret left that on, then slid in next to Jim. 

Just as she leaned over him to kiss him, Jim grumbled, "oh shit" and rolled over to snag his pants. 

"What's wrong?" Margaret huffed, obviously offended by the diversion. 

"Forgot to pull out a condom," Jim mumbled. He hated using them. They felt like tourniquets on his dick, but he was more cautious than hedonistic, so he was always prepared. 

"What about birth control?" he asked as he rolled back to face Margaret. 

The shy woman's face lit up as she smiled brightly and said, "Oh don't worry about that. I had to have a hysterectomy when I was 23." 

The scar. 

Jim tried ... he really tried after that, but no matter what Margaret did, he couldn't get an erection. Finally, after about an hour of kissing and fondling and cajoling, Jim muttered a curt apology and climbed out of bed. He could still hear Margaret's soft sniffles as he pulled the truck out of her driveway. 

Margaret must have called Blair the next day, because when Jim got home from the gym, Blair was waiting for him. 

"You really are a piece of shit, aren't you?" he'd sneered before turning and stomping into his bedroom. 

Jim tried the fake surprised look that never worked with Blair anyhow, then just nodded and headed to the shower. When he got out, supper was on the table and nothing else was said about the whole Margaret disaster. 

A week later, Jim met Kerry. Kerry was 33, beautiful and blond. She had wintery blue eyes, a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and legs that went all the way up. Jim and Blair had been assigned to another carjacking case and Kerry worked for the Department of Motor Vehicles. She had a doctorate in public administration and was the DMV liaison to city government. Blair had started to flirt with her the second they were introduced, but Kerry had other ideas. 

When Blair left to check with Vital Records about a theory of his involving demographic trends and auto ownership, Kerry asked Jim out to dinner that night. He accepted immediately, shocked that someone would obviously prefer him over his roommate. Kerry took Jim to Salerno's for veal scaloppini, then to bed for sex. She had laughed heartily when Jim asked her if she had protection. 

"Oh honey, you'd better believe it. I'm like Fertile Franny here and the last thing I need right now is a baby." 

And with that, Kerry pulled a hand carved wooden box with a diaphram, condoms and spermaticide out of her bedside table drawer. 

The sex that night was incredible. Kerry was aggressive and physical and vocal about her needs. She kissed like nobody's business and fucked like a whore. By morning, Jim was covered with hickeys and sore from a twisted back he got when Kerry rode him like a prized pony. He couldn't believe how she had come with a scream when he hardly flicked her pulsing clitoris. 

The next night, Jim took Kerry to a Woody Allen retrospective at the Tivoli, then back to the loft for Kahlua's and cream. They were fucking on the couch when Blair got home from his date. Kerry just gave his roommate a grin and a wave and then dove down to bite one of Jim's nipples. The younger man practically ran into his bedroom and didn't come out until morning. When they finished, Kerry put her clothes back on and told Jim she'd see him around. 

Jim tried to call her the next day, but Kerry's secretary told him that she didn't want to see him anymore. That night Blair threw a handful of the spaghetti he had just drained in Jim's face as he walked in from the gym. By the time his shower was done, Blair had the table set and more pasta on to boil. 

Two weeks later, Naomi came for a visit. As usual, she let herself in with her own key, unpacked her suitcase in Blair's room and was cooking something ghastly when the two detectives got home from work. She kissed her son on the cheek and then hugged Jim, all the while letting fluttery comments about her two favorite men fall from her lips. Naomi headed back to the stove, but then turned suddenly and grabbed her son up in a fierce embrace. 

"Oh sweetie, I've been so worried about you. Promise me that you're not doing anything too dangerous. 

"Nah, Ma. You know me," Blair fibbed as he sent a barely concealed grin to Jim. "Besides, I've got Jim watching my back." 

Naomi gave her son a soft smack on the rear end and then pulled him by the hand to the sofa. 

"Blair, honey. Tell me the truth. Are you happy being a policeman?" 

The older man watched the two together with a kind of wistful envy. Here was a relationship like he'd never had. Not once had Jim ever experienced the special kind of intimacy that Blair and Naomi shared. As Blair began to placate his mother, Jim became lost in a longing so strong, that its intensity shocked him. To be able to touch so freely ... to understand every nuance of voice or movement ... to share such a bond as between parent and child ... these were things that he'd never realized he needed like he needed the air to breath until now. 

Jim's mom, whatever had happened to her, was gone by the time he was 13\. He'd been close to Sally, but there was never any doubt that she was the housekeeper and he was her employer's son. Jim had never let himself even wonder about what kind of relationship he would have had if his mom had stuck around. It was still too raw to think about and it had been almost 30 years now since she'd left. There was a bond with his father, but the love-hate relationship that had recently been tempered by near tragedy was nothing like what he was witnessing now. 

Blair, Jim noticed, lit up immediately when he was around his mother and seemed to regress about 20 years in her presence. Even as he tried to convince the aging hippie that he was an adult, a little piece of the child that was once Blair Sandburg still crept out whenever she was around. It was the piece that was all wide-eyed innocence and youthful curiosity and it made Jim's heart ache just to watch it. 

To have that kind of affect on a child ... to have someone love you ... to have that kind of unconditional trust in you to do what's best ... what your heart told you ...was overwhelming. Jim turned and hurried up the steps before Naomi or Blair could see his emotions blast away any reserve left in the shell of a man he'd become. Throwing himself on his bed, Jim buried his face in his pillow to keep from screaming out his grief. 

Jim must have fallen asleep because Naomi's hand on his shoulder woke him with a start. 

"Sorry, honey. Didn't mean to frighten you. You okay, Jim?" she asked softly. 

Rolling to his back, then wiping the salty traces of tears from his eyes, Jim mumbled, "I'm fine, Naomi. Just a little tired." 

Naomi sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked Jim's arm. Her huge green eyes seemed to have that same ability as her son's to bore right through his skull and see the turmoil inside. 

"What makes me think that's not quite it?" she asked with a small grin. "It might help to talk about it, sweetheart. Is there a problem with your senses?" 

Jim wasn't sure which surprised him more ... the fact that Naomi had called him sweetheart or mentioned his senses. Whichever it was shocked a bit of the truth out of the normally reticent Sentinel. 

"No, nothing like that. It's just ... seeing you with Blair. I never had that with ... anyone." 

"Oh, baby," Naomi cried softly, leaning down to wrap the detective in her arms. 

Instead of stiffening up as he did with most others, Jim felt himself relax in her embrace. God knows, Naomi didn't remind him of his mother, but there was something so natural in her actions that he found himself responding to her touch. Naomi kept up the soothing touches as she held Jim to her breast and lay her cheek on his head. 

"Jim, I hope you know how much you mean to me," she began eventually. "I love you, honey. And I'm so glad Blair finally found someone as special as you. I couldn't have chosen anyone better for him than you. You know that don't you?" 

Everything relaxed about Jim Ellison tightened up with those last words. Springing from Naomi's arms, Jim reared back with a look of pure horror in his eyes. 

"Naomi!" he gasped. "It's not like that at all. Blair and I aren't ... well ... we aren't!" 

"Oh, pooh, Jim! You two are more married than any couple I know." 

"Naomi," Jim began again, a little more calmly this time. "Blair and I are not a couple. We're both very straight." 

Giving Jim one of those incandescent Sandburg smiles, Naomi just leaned in for kiss on the cheek and muttered, "That's right, honey. You keep telling yourself that." 

Jim Ellison was rarely shocked into immobility, but this was certainly the exception. He remained sitting on the edge of his bed, staring into the space that now only retained the faintest odor of sage that had clung to Naomi's clothing. It wasn't like he'd never heard anyone voice the same assumption that she had just made. It was just that he thought that she, of all people, would know better. She was the one who waltzed in uninvited and took over her son's room without warning. If he and Blair were ... together ... why would Blair still have a room? Did she really think this was all some faade that they maintained for the rest of the world? 

No, Naomi may be a ditz, but she was not stupid. Then what the hell was she talking about, Jim wondered. 

"You two are more married than any couple I know," she had said. 

Married ... like they lived together, worked together, ate together, went on vacation together, did grocery shopping and laundry and housecleaning together ... all that was missing was the sleeping together. 

"Oh shit!" Jim groaned. "We might as well be." 

"Jim! Get your ass down here. Supper's on." 

Jim grimaced as the familiar tone of Blair's voice. He used the same tone with Jim that Naomi did with him ... the same tone you use with a member of your family. Blair wasn't just his Guide or his partner or even his friend. Blair was his family ... they were a couple. The fact that they both still dated women had nothing to do with it. This wasn't about lust or hormones ... this was about finding someone you really belong with. 

When had this all happened? When had this relationship become about so much more than friendship? Jim couldn't remember when he stopped thinking of the young man as a nuisance or even an annoying necessity and started to think of him as a friend. Now that was shot to hell as he realized that there was no one he was more comfortable with ... who gave him such unconditional love ... as Blair did. 

"Jim? Man, I thought you'd zoned up here?" 

Jim looked up at the bright blue eyes of his partner. Quiet concern was written all over his handsome face. 

"No ... no. I was just thinking." 

"Did Mom say something to upset you?" Blair asked hesitantly. 

"No ... well, just a little. It's nothing, Blair. Don't worry about it." 

Without giving his roommate a chance to object, Jim stood up, squared his shoulders and marched downstairs to dinner. Blair followed behind, wondering what his mother had done this time. She had refused to tell him what her conversation with Jim had been about. He wondered if they had finally discussed her part in his dissertation being exposed. But neither seemed really mad ... just ... thoughtful. 

That night Jim lay in bed, staring at the stars through the skylight. A new thought had sprung to light while he ate supper and now he was trying to fit it in place with all the others jumbling around in his mind. As he had set and ate the hummus and tofu pancakes with sweetgrass syrup, he thought about Naomi and Blair and "The Idea". 

Now, in the twilight hours, he could see how the three most important things on his mind were connected. He wanted to have a baby. Naomi, for all her flakiness, was a wonderful mother. And he didn't need to pull the list out of his wallet to know that every trait on it was embodied in the form of one Blair Sandburg. 

If he had a baby with Naomi, wouldn't he have a good chance of having a child like Blair? If he got along with Blair so well, wouldn't he get along with the child? If he had a child by Naomi, there wouldn't be a problem with cutting the mother out of the picture completely. He was sure that she'd never settle down, but that she now realized that a child needed a stable home life. It would be no problem at all convincing her that Jim should retain custody. Then he and Blair could raise the baby. Blair would never leave if he had a baby brother or sister there to take care of. Naomi wasn't a young woman, but since this wouldn't be her first child, she would probably do fine. He'd make sure she got the best of care and that he'd love this child no matter what. 

Satisfied that "The Idea" had now moved on to "The Plan", Jim closed his eyes and drifted to sleep. 

The next morning while Blair was in the shower, Jim asked Naomi to lunch. He kept his tone light, but vowed her to secrecy. Naomi just figured that Jim was planning some kind of surprise for her son and agreed immediately. Blair had to be in court that day, so Jim knew that this would be a good opportunity to have his partner's mother to himself. 

Jim picked a quiet family restaurant that had a variety of salads for their lunch. It was one of Blair's favorites, so he figured Naomi would find something she'd like there too. It was also practically deserted by 2:00 so he could talk fairly freely. Naomi breezed in 20 minutes late with excuses of losing track of time while meditating tripping off her tongue. She was wearing an ankle length, olive green challis jumper with a clingy white t-shirt underneath. She had huge hoop earrings in her ears and scuffed Birkenstock sandals on her feet. Jim cringed when he noticed that her toenails were painted purple. 

"Okay sweetie! What's the big secret?" 

Naomi leaned over the table with her menu pressed against her chest. Her tone was conspiratorial, but her eyes were dancing with amusement. 

"Well ... it's about what we talked about last night," Jim began. 

"Oh Jim!" 

Naomi's face immediately took on a dark look of concern. He'd seen that look so many times. 

"No, I'm okay," Jim hurried to respond. "It's just that I've been doing a lot of thinking about my future lately." 

The redhead started to urge him on, but the waitress chose that moment to appear. Jim ordered a Rueben sandwich, coleslaw and fries. Naomi got the tomato basil soup and a roll. Both drank mineral water. The waitress read their orders back, then discretely backed away. 

"Naomi ... I've decided that I want to have a child." 

There! He'd said it. Jim took a deep breath and waited for his companion's response. All she did was look at him with a lovely smile on her face. 

"Anyhow ... I'm not getting any younger ... and I don't really have any marriage prospects lined up ... and I've thought a lot about it and I don't want to adopt." 

After another deep breath, a nod of approval and a swig of water, Jim continued. 

"I've read about surrogates and I thought about what you said about Blair and I being a couple and while we're not, we kind of are. What I mean is, if I wanted to marry a woman, I'd want her to be like him. I'd want my child to inherit some of his characteristics." 

"Oh Jim! That is about the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say," Naomi gushed. Her eyes brightened with tears, but she was grinning so hard they refused to fall. 

"Yeah, and if you tell him I said that, I'll kill you," Jim grumbled. 

"No problem sweetie. I know Blair can get a little full of himself every now and then. But he is pretty special, isn't he?" 

"Yes," Jim agreed. "I'll have to admit, he is. But what I'm trying to say is that I've watched you with him and I know what a great mother you are ..." 

Jim had been folding and refolding his paper napkin the entire time he'd been talking. Now it sat on the table in a perfect triangle. He stared at the smudged white paper as if he couldn't figure out how it had gotten that way. Finally, he raised his eyes and looked into Naomi's. 

"What I wondered is if you would consider having a baby with me? I'd pay for all your care and take custody when the baby was born, but you'd be able to see it whenever you wanted. I mean I'd want you to be a part of it's life, but you wouldn't have to pay child support or anything. I just can't think of anyone better as a mother of my child." 

Jim had done it again. He'd rendered a Sandburg speechless. In some strange part of his mind, he wondered if there was a hall of fame for such achievements. But as with all Sandburg silences, this one was short-lived. 

"Oh Jim! I think that's a wonderful idea. There's just a couple of things I think you should consider, honey. First, I'm no spring chicken. I never had any trouble with my pregnancy with Blair but that was almost 30 years ago. Second, have you thought of how Blair is going to feel about us sleeping together?" 

Now it was Jim's turn to effect that gormless face that made him look about 30 intelligence points shorter than he was. 

"No! Oh god! No! You've got it all wrong!" he finally exploded. 

"Oh, that's very flattering Jim." 

Jim had never heard sarcasm from Naomi before, but she did it well. 

"No, I meant that we could use artificial insemination. I don't ... I mean I didn't think you'd want to ... do it." 

Do it? Real smooth, Jim thought. 

Jim was now tearing his napkins to shreds. Thankfully, the waitress appeared with their lunches. The time it took her to serve their meals gave Jim space to breath and collect his thoughts. 

"What I meant was that I had never intended for this to be more than a ... business-like relationship. And as far as your age goes, women well into their 40s are still having children. It wouldn't be too much of a risk since it won't be your first. And I would certainly want you to have an amniocentesis and any other tests that the doctors thought necessary." 

"Business-like," Naomi repeated before blowing delicately on the soup in her spoon. 

Jim tried to take a bite of his sandwich, but a hunk of bread caught in his throat, so he laid it back on the plate and pushed it away. He was poking at his coleslaw with the tines of his fork when he heard Naomi softly say, "I'll do it." 

Jim's heart flipflopped inside his chest, when he looked up into one of the most beautiful Sandburg smiles he'd ever seen. 

"Are you sure?" 

Naomi nodded quickly and while Jim wasn't sure if she was entirely sure, he sure didn't want her to change her mind now. 

"I'll call and see when I can get us into the doctor when we get home. We need to talk to a lawyer too. And I'll have to talk to Simon. I'm not sure we'll want to be out on the streets with a baby at home. And then I'd better call a realtor. We'll need to move to a house. A loft isn't right for a baby." 

"And you'll have to talk to Blair," Naomi interrupted Jim's plans. 

"Oh, sure. Don't worry about him, Naomi. He'll be thrilled. Just wait. Oh god! I can't believe this is going to happen!" 

Naomi had never seen Jim so animated. His incredible joy was written all over his face. She just hoped he was right about Blair. Somehow she wasn't sure that her son would be quite as thrilled. 

Jim planned a special dinner that night. Naomi said that he should break the news to Blair alone, so she made plans to have supper with a friend. Jim dropped her off and headed to the store for steaks and a bag of salad. He bought the good bread, potatoes to bake and a raspberry pie for dessert. 

Blair dragged in at 7 o'clock, clearly worn out from sitting in court all day doing nothing. He was wearing the brown tweed suit he'd found at the Good Will, a pale blue oxford cloth shirt and the Star Wars tie Jim had bought him for Hanukah. He still wore his glasses and his hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. 

"Hey Jim," he called on his way to the bathroom. "Don't go to a lot of trouble for dinner. I stuffed myself on government bagels before I came home." 

Jim watched his partner disappear behind the bathroom door and then switched off the broiler on the oven. Maybe after they'd talked, Blair would have a better appetite. He was famished. After Naomi had said yes, Jim had attacked his meal with gusto and was still ravenous even though he'd been munching on grapes since he got home. Grabbing two beers from the fridge, Jim moved to the couch to wait for his friend. 

"Mmmm, something sure smells good. Is Mom cooking something special?" Blair asked as he wandered into the living room. 

He'd lost his suit jacket and tie and his shirt was pulled out from him trousers and hanging open. The blue of the shirt made Blair's eyes shine like sapphires. Jim grinned at the thought of his baby with those beautiful blue eyes. 

"Your mom's with a friend tonight, Chief. Here." 

Jim held the bottle out to his friend. Blair grabbed it thankfully, flopped down next to Jim and began to roll the cold bottle across his forehead. 

"How the hell can I be so tired when I've done nothing but sit on my ass all day?" he moaned. "Oh shit, who cares? It's over. How was your day?" 

Jim took a swig of beer and then set it on the table. He turned enough to face Blair and waited until the Guide stopped drinking and looked back. 

"Hey, you okay Jim?" 

Blair set his bottle down next to Jim's, his eyes full of worry and concern. 

"I'm fine Blair. There's just something I have to tell you. Now I want to you just listen. Don't interrupt me, don't lecture me, just don't say anything until I'm done. Okay?" 

Something like abject terror crossed Blair's face, but he nodded stoically and leaned back against a cushion and folded his hands on his lap. Whatever it was, was serious, but Jim didn't seem too upset by it, so it couldn't be too bad, could it? 

"Every since my birthday party ... since seeing Stephen's new baby ... well, I've been thinking how much I'd like to have a baby of my own." 

"Oh shit." 

Blair began to hyperventilate. If Jim had been focusing, he would have heard the younger man's heart rate quicken and his lungs empty at once. Now that Blair was gasping for breath and pounding the back of the sofa, Jim sprang up and ran for a paper bag. He was back in a flash, holding the bag and rubbing his partner's back, trying desperately to calm the man down. 

After a couple of minutes, Blair pushed the bag away and muttered, "Okay, I'm fine." 

He didn't look fine. He looked like shit. His face was blotchy red, his eyes were bloodshot and he was still breathing hard. But Blair had to hear the rest, so Jim continued. 

"Well, I knew that I didn't want to rush into marriage just to have a child, so I've been kind of looking around for someone to ... you know ... be the mother. I'd take custody. They'd never have to see the baby again." 

He stopped to let that sink in, then flinched when Blair smacked him in the arm. 

"You idiot! That's why you did that to Margaret? And Kerry? Jim, what were you thinking? Of course those women didn't want to do that? Talk about making them feel like objects! I'll bet you were real suave with it too? What'd you do, offer them money?" 

The last remark hurt, but Blair was grinning now, so Jim tried to grin back. 

"Not exactly," he mumbled. 

"Oh man, I can't believe you! Jim, you're never going to get a woman to do that. There is such a thing as a maternal instinct you know?" 

Jim's grin turned smug. 

"Well guess what, Mr. Know It All. I've found someone." 

"Who?" 

"Your mother!" 

Jim had never seen the blood literally drain from someone's face the way Blair's did. And with the blood, all his expression left too. It was a cold, stony face that stared back at the Sentinel and it sent shivers coursing through his body. Then, with the minimum of movement, Blair rose up and walked into his room. 

The door shut without a sound and Jim automatically turned hearing up to check on his roommate. There was absolute quiet. He dialed it up more so that at least he could hear the erratic beat of Blair's heart. He was so focused on the irregularity of the thudding that when Blair screamed, the noise nearly knocked him over. 

"You arrogant, egotistical, selfish, son of a bitch!" 

Blair stormed from his room and plowed right into Jim. The detective teetered and then gripped the edge of the couch for support. Blair took advantage of his moment of weakness and began to pummel his partner in the stomach. Jim managed to grab the younger man, pulling his flailing arm tight against his body. Blair continued to squirm, trying to break Jim's hold, while he screamed out more names. 

"You fucking dickhead! You motherfucking, cocksucking prick asshole!" 

Blair brought one leg around behind Jim's knees and toppled them both to the floor. Jim never lost his grip as Blair struggled on. 

"Calm down, Sandburg," he growled as fingernails scraped down his forearm. 

Blair was still fighting, but getting weaker. Jim held the younger man to him, waiting out the violent flow of energy 

"Why'd you do it, Ellison?" Blair finally asked softly. "Didn't you already have enough of me? Why'd you have to take that too?" 

He'd quit struggling and was lax in Jim's arms. The detective didn't know whether it was a ruse or not, so he still held on tightly. 

"I'm sorry Blair. I never meant to hurt you." 

A short bark of laughter startled the Sentinel and he tightened his grip on his partner. 

"You never meant to hurt me? How many times am I supposed to buy that one Jim? I mean, you fucked my mom, Jim. How did you mean for that to be? Huh? You didn't think I'd be a little upset? Why my mom, Jim?" 

"Blair, listen to me," Jim demanded. He was using his officer in charge voice, hoping the shock of it would bring his Guide around. "I didn't sleep with your mom. That's not what I said." 

Jim waited a moment. There was no immediate response, so he started speaking again, sending his words out in short clips. 

"I said ... that I'm having a baby with Naomi. We haven't fucked. We're not going to fuck. Do you understand? She's going to be artificially inseminated. I wouldn't do that Blair. I wouldn't." 

Jim felt the body in his arms relax a tiny bit more. Finally, Blair began to speak. 

"Why Jim? Why with Naomi?" 

The last words were spoken Sentinel soft. The sadness that was conveyed in those words gripped Jim's heart and he bowed his head, pressing his forehead against Blair's. 

"Because it's as close as I can get to having a baby with you," Jim answered. 

Where all his long and involved rationalizations had gone, he didn't know. The words were as much a surprise to him as they were to Blair, but he knew in his gut that they were truest words he'd ever spoken. 

"I guess that's why I could never find the perfect woman. Turns out she's you." 

The Sentinel's giddy laugh bordered on hysteria. Not getting any further reaction from his Guide, Jim dropped his arms and released him. 

"I'm sorry Blair. I never, ever wanted to hurt you. But it seems like everything I do ... no matter how hard I try not to ... I'm sorry." 

Jim braced a hand on the floor and pushed himself to a standing position. He then extended a hand to help Blair up. Instead, the younger man yanked and Jim ended up back on his knees facing a pair of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. 

"You can't just drop a bomb like that and walk away," Blair chided. "You and me have got some talking to do and we're not moving from this spot until we have." 

Jim nodded glumly and shifted to sit cross-legged, back propped against the couch. Blair scooted up to sit beside him ... one long thigh pressing against the other's. Then taking Jim's left hand in his, the younger man pulled the clasped hands into his lap. 

"Jim, start from the beginning, okay?" 

The pair sat in silence for several minutes as Jim gathered his thoughts. He knew he had to get this one right ... too much had gone wrong before. He couldn't chance it again. 

"You remember the night of my birthday party?" 

"Of course Jim. I planned it," Blair responded. 

"Well, you remember that Stephen and Stacy brought Billy that night?" 

Blair smiled at the memory of the two of them taking turns holding the infant. 

"Yeah, Jim. I remember. I was kind of surprised at your reaction to Billy, but we were having so much fun, I guess I didn't really question it further." 

"I know. I was surprised too. Just holding that baby stirred something inside me, Blair ... something I hadn't even known existed. It was like it just suddenly hit me that I was 40 years old and if I ever wanted to have a kid of my own, I'd better get busy. I thought you'd laugh at me or disapprove, so I didn't say anything." 

Blair raised the clasped hands and placed a light kiss on Jim's knuckles. 

"Jim, I can't say I approve of your methodology, but I certainly understand your motives. We've all got that instinct to procreate. That's how humans have gotten to the point of over population. It's natural, man. I even understand your rather ... unorthodox ... methods of seeking a mate. I know that with you everything gets a lot more primal ... more instinctive. What I don't understand is why Naomi. She's my mom, Jim." 

Now it was Jim's turn to kiss the hand in his. 

"That's why Blair. You know about my mom leaving?" 

Blair nodded quickly and tightened his grasp on Jim's hand. 

"Well, I guess I've never had a good role model for what a mother should be. Then you moved in and Naomi came to visit ... and ... well ... I'd see the two of you together and how well you got along and even though Naomi's a little flaky, she did a great job of raising you." 

"A little flaky?" Blair laughed out loud. 

"Jim, Naomi's a goddamn blizzard. But you're right," he added more seriously. "She is a great mom. But she's my mom." 

Jim scooted a bit so that he could better face his partner. Picking up Blair's free hand, Jim brought them both to his chest. 

"That's what I keep telling you Blair. There's nobody on earth more like you than Naomi. I want my child to be as beautiful and intelligent and kind and compassionate as you. My best chance of that is with Naomi. If there were a way to have a baby with you, I'd be on my knees begging right now. Do you understand now?" 

Swallowing the huge lump that had grown in his throat as he listened to his Sentinel, Blair answered, "I think I do. And I think that's really beautiful, you know? But Jim, Naomi's not ... young ... anymore. I'm not sure she'll really want to raise another kid." 

He was trying to break the news to Jim as gently as possible, so when the older man grinned broadly, he stared in confusion. 

"No, baby. That's the point. I'm going to raise it. Naomi's just the surrogate. After the baby's born, she'll sign papers turning full custody over to me." 

"Oh." 

"Oh Blair, I've been thinking about this for so long now. I've even talked to an architect about plans for a house. I don't think I want to raise a child in the loft. There's nowhere to play. And I want him to have a dog and goldfish and other kids to play with. This baby's going to have everything ... a room of his own and a yard to play in and maybe even a pony." 

"A pony," Blair squeaked out. "Jim, have you lost your mind? First, he may be a she." 

Jim jumped up to his feet and began pacing back and forth behind the couch. Blair watched the Sentinel with amusement and a little concern. 

"I know that, Blair. I know it could be a girl, but that doesn't matter. She'll still need the same things. I can't give that to her here. You should see the lot I've bought. It's gorgeous ... 6 acres ... woods all around. And the house will be so cool. It's not huge, but it'll have a TV room and a nursery and a big front porch. There will be a sort of separate area for the nanny too." 

Blair sat looking up at his best friend. The man was happier and more enthusiastic than Blair had ever seen him. And for some reason that just depressed Blair even more. He struggled to be charitable. Fatherhood would suit Jim, he told himself. He'd give his kids all the love and attention he'd missed out on. 

"But where does that leave me?" Blair whispered to himself. 

"What do you mean?" Jim demanded as he dropped to his knees in front of his Guide. 

"Wh ... what?" Blair sputtered, just realizing that he's spoken the question out loud. 

"What do you mean, 'where does that leave me'?" 

The clipped speech was accompanied by the usual jaw clenching. 

"Sorry Jim," Blair apologized. "I was just thinking out loud. Guess I'd better start looking for a place to live. It just kind of surprised me, that's all." 

Jim inched closer to his roommate's face and gave him the patented Ellison glare. 

"So you're moving out after all. I should've known I couldn't count on you." 

The coldness with which the statement was made hit Blair full force. The breeze made by Jim hopping to his feet and stomping to the front door was like an Arctic blast. 

"I thought we'd gotten past that, but I guess I was mistaken," Jim ground out as he grabbed his jacket and slammed out of the apartment. 

Scrambling to his feet, Blair rushed out after his partner. He caught up with Jim a block away. Blair grabbed the sleeve of the detective's jacket and yanked him into the alley. 

"Blair, just let it go," Jim said before Blair could begin to speak. His voice sounded weary and resigned. 

"What the fuck are you talking about, Ellison? You're the one with the big plans for the new home and the new life and when I mention that I'd better start looking for a place to live, you storm off like some big drama queen. How come I'm supposed to sit and listen to you plan your life without me without batting an eye, but when I talk about how it will affect my life, you get all pissy? Explain that to me, would ya? Cause I'm getting a little sick of you always jumping to the wrong conclusions about me. What kind of prick do you think I am?" 

Jim avoided Blair's eyes as he tried to process an answer to the myriad of questions. Somewhere in there was a clue to what he should say, but he wasn't sure he could find it. Instead, he made a deflective move. Pushing Blair back against the brick wall of Colette's, he brought his mouth down for a demanding kiss. Thrusting his tongue past tight lips and clenched teeth, Jim kissed Blair with everything he had. 

He'd never kissed a man before, but kissing Blair came so naturally that he was soon lost in the sensation. Suddenly able to do all those things he'd only dreamt of, Jim sank his hands into the mane of curls as he ground his pelvis against his partner's. How long had he wanted to feel Blair this way ... in this full body press? 

A glimmer of memory surfaced ... Jim with Blair pushed up against the wall ... Jim out of control ... Jim needing Blair more than he'd ever thought possible. But this time, instead of fighting the attraction ... clamping down on his desire ... Jim just went with it. Leaving Blair's mouth, Jim ignored the other man's half-hearted protests to taste every part of his beautiful face. He delicately kissed eyes, cheeks, temples, nose. With a knee pressed between Blair's legs, he let his hands wander over shoulders and arms, coming to rest clasped in his Guide's. 

"Jim, please," Blair begged "We're gonna get arrested for public indecency." 

Blair nervously pushed at Jim's shoulders, torn between the need to get his partner to the safety of their home and the desire that was fueling the raging hard-on filling his jeans. Jim ignored the warning and dove in to nuzzle his Guide's neck, nosing towards the soft skin behind his right ear. Shifting to ease the pressure on his knee, Jim suddenly felt his cock thump against Blair's. 

"Oh Christ!" he gasped, backing away and staring at his friend. "Oh shit, Blair, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." 

As appalled at he was at his own actions, Jim was still astounded at the exquisiteness that was Blair Sandburg. He couldn't help but stare. Even with mussed hair and bruised lips, Blair was heartbreakingly beautiful. His huge eyes gleamed a cobalt blue as he returned the stare. Then, shaking his head slightly, Blair grabbed Jim's hand. 

"Oh no you don't, Ellison. You don't get off that easily." 

Tugging his partner along, the Guide led the way back to the loft. Jim followed, smiling his goofiest grin. He wasn't entirely certain, but it looked like maybe he had somehow managed to get everything he wanted by going at it back-asswards. Life was about to get very good. 

Once inside the loft, Blair lost no time in setting his partner straight. With a leap, he was into Jim's arms, legs wrapped around the detective's slender waist, ass held firmly by two very capable hands. 

"Okay, Ellison," he began sternly, "let's take this one step at a time." 

Jim wondered how someone in the position Blair was in could assume such an air of authority, but he did. Jim would listen to every word his roommate said and defer to his every whim. 

"I love you," he said softly. "I think you love me too." 

Jim nodded his head eagerly. This was going to be easier than he'd thought if Blair was going to do all the talking. 

"And you want to have a baby ... a baby that has some of the same genes that I have. Right, so far?" 

"Yes," Jim agreed readily. Hoping the inquiries were done, he ducked in for a quick suck on that amazing lower lip. 

Blair moaned into the kiss, then pulled his head back. 

"Not so fast, buddy-boy. We've got more to talk about than that." 

Jim sighed dramatically and carried his armload over to the couch. 

"Whatever you say, Chief, but we might as well get comfortable," he explained, dropping down into the plush cushions. 

Blair squirmed a bit until he was comfortably settled, straddling his Sentinel's lap. 

"Okay, now that we're both comfy, let's get back to the subject at hand," Blair began again. 

Jim gazed up into the serious eyes and again nodded in agreement. 

"So ... we love each other ... you want a baby ... and you've planned this whole family scenario with me as ... what? Kindly uncle? Big brother? Co-daddy?" 

"Co-daddy?" 

Jim arched an eyebrow as he repeated the odd name. 

"Okay, not a good term. We can work on that. So you explain it to me. Where do I fit in this plan of yours? I know I'll actually be the baby's step brother, but what does that entail?" 

Jim furrowed his brow in concentration as he searched for the appropriate words for what he wanted. To be entirely truthful, he hadn't really thought out Blair's involvement other than he'd be there. He was a part of Jim's life ... Jim's family ... a necessity ... a requirement to living. The fact that Blair would be the child's brother hadn't escaped him, but given his own relationship with Stephen, he didn't think it mattered much. 

Maybe 'co-daddy' was the best term. The fact that their relationship was about to become carnal indicated that Naomi's comment about them being a married couple was truer than he'd ever realized. If he and Blair were a couple, they'd likely raise the child like a couple would. Kind of a Jennifer Has Two Daddies family. 

Jim grinned at that thought and opened his mouth to share it when Blair leaned down and kissed the spot right below his nose. The feather-light tough sent an erotic sizzle right down to his dick. 

"What do you want, Jim?" Blair whispered into his mouth. 

He'd never given credence to any of his fantasies about his Guide. They had always just been delightful ways to bring himself off when lying alone in bed, massaging the purple-headed warrior. Now he was on the brink of making his own dreams come true. 

"I want to come on you," Jim announced seriously. 

"Oh baby!" Blair laughed. "I can see where this conversation is headed. Maybe we'd better save the heart to heart for later. Unless you really want your child to think of me as your personal sex slave." 

Waggling his eyebrows at the Sentinel, Blair leaned in and laid a gentle kiss on Jim's mouth. 

"I love you so much Jim. Just tell me you love me too, please?" 

Jim smiled brightly at the man in his lap. Yes, this was going to be easy. 

"I love you too Blair. I really do. And I don't care what people say or how weird it is, but I want you with me forever. I want to raise our baby together. I want to be a family. But right this moment, I want to fuck you into next week. Then I want you to fuck me. Then I want to cover you with honey and lick you clean. Then I want you to handcuff me to the bed and ..." 

"Alright! Alright!" Blair laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "I get it. You're a pretty persuasive guy when you put your mind to it, aren't you? Now didn't you say something about coming on me?" 

Jim stared up at the beautiful face of his Guide. Laying a hand on each cheek, he gently pulled Blair down to meet his lips. He wanted to be tender and sensitive, but as soon as the tip of Blair's tongue brushed against his Jim was lost in a maelstrom of hunger and need. Pulling his partner tightly against his chest, Jim rolled off the couch and landed on top of Blair, never breaking the kiss. Years of longing, safely banked away in the furthest recesses of his soul burst free like water through a dam. 

Jim could no more stop the flood of desire that swept over him than fly out the balcony window. Without another thought, Jim was tearing away the layers of clothing that always shielded Blair's body from view. Keeping his lips sealed to his partner's, the Sentinel slid one hand against the feverishly hot flesh of his Guide. Mapping the hills and valleys of his lover's body, Jim's hand floated over Blair's erection before coming to rest in the warmth between his thighs. 

"Oh god, Jim," Blair moaned as Jim ran his thumb gently over the head of his dick. 

The Sentinel was now nibbling a track down Blair's neck. He grinned at the exclamation, then raised up to his knees. Blair's eyes blinked open and he stared as Jim began to lower the zipper of his jeans. It wasn't the way he did it that was so entrancing. It was the way that he held Blair's gaze as his fingers pulled the hard dick free. Then, almost lazily, Jim began to stroke himself. 

Blair swallowed hard and looked down at the dark red crown of Jim's cock. It was shiny with pre-cum that Jim would wipe away with his thumb before spreading it along the length with a slow pull of flesh. Fists tightened as Blair waited for the inevitable. Looking again into Jim's eyes, he saw the question there and answered it with a quick nod of his head. That was all it took and Jim was coming - long arcs of cum splattering against his chest - his own dick responding in kind - mixing their seed in the air above him. 

When the tremors had ended - when the moans had subsided - Jim and Blair were still there on the floor, staring at each other. The consummation of their marriage was complete. There was no turning back now. They were the old married couple that Naomi had seen. They were going to have a child, build a house, be a family. They were Jim and Blair - Sentinel and Guide. They had always been meant to be together and every fight, every misunderstanding, every obstacle that had been thrown in their way had just been there to strengthen the bond. 

"I love you, Blair Sandburg," Jim said solemnly. 

"I love you too, Jim Ellison," Blair replied. 

And standing quietly in the doorway of the loft, Naomi Sandburg silently wept into her hanky. Weddings always made her cry. 

**TO BE CONTINUED**


End file.
